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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473525">Peace</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken'>thedevilchicken</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ancient Rome, F/F, Fights, Gladiators, Injury, Memories</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:26:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,092</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473525</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They called her all kinds of things in the arena, but her given name was Eirene.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Classical Flash 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Peace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/gifts">HogwartsToAlexandria</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They called her all kinds of things in the arena, but her given name was Eirene. </p><p>She was never the kind of woman they made up into statues or painted on a pretty courtyard wall, but Andy remembers that as part of her charm. She was tall, even taller than Andy was, thick and broad and strong with light eyes and dark skin and a patchwork of scars at her left arm, across her shoulder. That was her shield arm, and it looked a lot like she'd been mauled by a lion; mostly because, one upon a time, for some fucking games or other, she had been. </p><p>Eirene had been younger then, maybe not even twenty yet, and Andy had watched from the crowd instead of fighting with her. She'd watched her fight, six gladiators against a menagerie of animals collected from across the Roman world, and she'd bled, yes, dripping into the sand of the arena floor as the crowd roared louder than the lion had, but she'd walked away from it. There were the beginnings of skill there. Andy felt her interest piqued.</p><p>A month later, she'd watched her fight again, and the wounds still weren't quite healed; Andy saw the way she winced as she brought up her shield to block the swing of her opponent's sword. The man, who had seemed so insulted to be fighting a woman, didn't seem insulted when she beat him to the ground more by sheer force than skill. He didn't seem insulted when the patron of the games told her to spare his life. </p><p>Skill came later, with practice and age. Andy watched for years, whenever she returned to Capua; she saw Eirene's scars multiply and her skills increase until little seemed to challenge her. She was quick for her size, and deadly, with a strength to her arm that could beat a man straight to his knees if he weren't braced for it, and she did that often. Maybe Andy never understood the games, at least not past <i>panem et circenses</i>, but watching Eirene was the closest that she came to it. </p><p>Years passed, though Andy was used to that. The twenty-year-old turned twenty-five, thirty, weathered injuries and fought again. And then finally, Andy gave herself up into the ludus; she didn't believe she'd stay for long, just long enough to fight her, but she ended proven wrong. </p><p>"You're new," Eirene said, when they first met, sitting at the tables when the evening meal was served. She looked Andy up and down, smiled, then gestured to the seat across from her, where Andy sat down. </p><p>"I'm new," Andy confirmed. </p><p>"You don't seem as scared as the new ones usually do."</p><p>"I've fought before." </p><p>Eirene's smile widened. "You don't have enough scars for that," she said, and Andy shrugged. </p><p>"Maybe I just don't get hit," she replied, and when Eirene laughed out loud, Andy couldn't help but smile. </p><p>For a start, they didn't train together; Eirene was recovering from injury and Andy's silly wooden training sword found dummies and skinny little boys who likely wouldn't last a year while Eirene sat nearby and watched. They ate together, though, and talked; Eirene told her she didn't remember much about where she came from, except she knew her name. She couldn't remember her mother's face, or what they called her brother, or whether she'd come to Capua by sea or land. Andy clasped her arm across the table and told her that she understood. Eirene didn't pull away. </p><p>A month passed, and then two did, and then Eirene trained again. Their trainer paired the two of them together and when Eirene struck, Andy felt the blow in every single part of her. It made her laugh out loud as she fell to the ground from the force of it, and they clasped each other's wrist as Eirene helped her up again. </p><p>"You hit hard," Andy said. </p><p>Eirene grinned. "I can hit harder," she replied, and proceeded to do precisely that, until Andy's body ached with it, at least for a little while. And after, in the baths, when they washed and oiled and scraped their skin, when they lingered when the others left, Eirene put her hands on her. </p><p>"You're not bruised," she said, as she traced Andy's collarbones with her callused fingers. </p><p>"I heal quickly."</p><p>"Should I try harder?"</p><p>But the look on her face in the lamplight said she had something else in mind than fighting. Andy couldn't say she minded that idea at all and so she smiled, and cocked her head, and said, "Well, you can <i>try</i>..."</p><p>When Eirene knocked her down to the ground that time, she followed after her. She pinned Andy down with her big frame and when they kissed, Andy wrapped her long legs around her waist and tipped her onto her back instead. Eirene laughed and squeezed her hips, and didn't seem to mind at all.</p><p>She expected to stay there six months at most, just long enough to have a fight or two in the arena, hopefully with the woman she'd been watching all those years. Six years later, she was still there, with Eirene's rough hands searching her skin for scars she knew she didn't have. She never questioned it, and Andy never told her, but she must have understood that Andromache of Scythia wasn't ordinary at all. </p><p>Andy forgets things sometimes: people, places, things she's done. She has keepsakes here and there, weapons, sketches, catalogues she makes in languages she's half forgotten, too. But Eirene she remembers. </p><p>In the end, she couldn't lift her left arm above her lion-mauled shoulder. In the end, her back hurt and her thigh was stiff and her right arm ached from a bad break, though she never lost her smile. And they fought together, sword and labrys, undefeated, until they both knew that it was only Andy that protected her from loss. </p><p>"Do you want to leave?" Andy asked, and Eirene's mouth gave a wry little twist. </p><p>"Where would I go?" she asked, and she spread her arms wide. "Do I look like a farmer? Would I make a good wife?" </p><p>Andy straddled her lap, and she kissed her mouth, and understood all things must end. She left not too long after, and turned back twice to see Eirene watching. All things must end, but they mustn't all be easy. </p><p>She forgets things sometimes, but Eirene she never will. </p><p>Her name means <i>peace</i>. And Andy's always hoped she found it, even if that was without her.</p>
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